


Crash into me

by clicktrack_heart



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clicktrack_heart/pseuds/clicktrack_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their hands together is good, but it’s not all he wants to give her, if she still wants it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash into me

**Author's Note:**

> This is obviously AU and inspired by the Dave Matthews Band song that I named it after. I hope you all like it. I didn’t have a beta and if anyone would like to be one for me in the future that would be awesome because it sucks posting without getting any prior assurances that what you created is not awful. So I’m tired and nervous so I’m going to run and hide now, but I’ll come back to keep leaving comments on everyone else’s lovely stuff!

  
  
The words come out of nowhere.  
  
“I’ve never not been a virgin,” Beth says.  
  
Daryl stares at the wall, blinks a few times to try and figure out what the girl is saying.  
  
He had been half asleep, lured into unawareness from hearing her sing earlier, for the second night in a row. He had been so comfortable he found himself laying down on the same bed as Beth an hour later, where at the back of his mind he knew he should’ve found some other place to rest, like the coffin downstairs.  
  
“Mphm?” he mumbles, realizing his face is pressed into her side, and if he moves his fingers an inch higher he’ll be touching the bottom of her breast. He moves it down, to the more perceived safety of her thin waist. “Whadda say?”  
  
“I’ve never not been a virgin,” she says again, voice stronger. “So if we had that moonshine still, you’d probably have to take a drink, huh?”  
  
He stiffens as her words sink in the tired fog of his brain even as her arms tighten around him. She’s a virgin, he’s not surprised even though he knew there was Jimmy and Zach, who were both head over heels for her, following her around like Sunday morning cartoon puppies.  
  
Beth’s confirmation, confession, whatever it is, makes him feel wrong though--him nearly twenty years older, waking up and realizing he has completely curled into her, and now he’s breathing in the smell of her--a strange scent of wildflowers and girl sweat, like it’s some sort of heady perfume.  
  
“Daryl?” she whispers softly, breath stirring his hair among other things. “Did ya hear what I jus’ said?”  
  
He doesn’t know what game she’s playing at but her words are making him horny and it’s such an unfamiliar and unwelcome feeling that he snaps.  
  
“Yeah, I heard ya. Ya haven’t fucked anyone. So ya was jus’ a tease?”  
  
Beth sucks in a breath as if he hit her but he keeps going, it’s like fucking word vomit.  
  
“So ya just promised your lil boyfriends ya would open your legs but ya didn’t send any off with a nice goodbye, fine, so what, what does that have to do with me?” He pulls his hands away from the warmth of Beth’s waist then, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he sits up and away from her.  
  
“I never promised either Jimmy or Zach anything!” Beth retorts, trying to look up at him even as he moves further away from her. “After what you said earlier, about changing your mind, I jus’ thought...”  
  
“Yeah ya _thought_! Whatever,” he scoffs. He’s inexplicably angry now, especially now that he knows what a snow white she really is. _What he said earlier?! Never nothin’ about sex! Never nothin’ to imply that!_  
  
Merle would get a good laugh. And Beth’s daddy would smile saintly approval at his youngest before giving Daryl a look that would no doubt send him right back to the trailer park he was raised in. Where he belongs.  
  
“Daryl, I really like you,” Beth says, voice tiny and hurt from behind him. “It was dumb, just forget it, please forget what I said.”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” he spits. “I’m not gonna fuck you just so you’re not a virgin anymore so don’t ask,” he continues vehemently, knowing he should leave it like she asked. Knowing that no matter what he says it’ll just hurt both of them but he doesn’t care. He wants to lash out--hurt her for being too good and even more out of his reach. “I’m not like that. I don’t fuck virgins. Ever!” he thunders.  
  
She doesn’t respond and an awkward silence falls over both of them with only Beth sniffling every few seconds. But Daryl doesn’t hear her cry.  
  
Eventually, the silence stretches on and Beth’s breath evens out again and he knows she’s fallen asleep.  
  
Daryl doesn’t lay down again on the bed, he knows he’s not welcome anyway. He’s alone again. Alone like he should be. He wipes away the wetness around his eyes, staring into the black space.  
  
When the first sunlight comes into the room, he’s up and out of bed. His body is tight from morning wood, shitty sleep and the memories of Beth’s words from the night before.  
  
 _“I’ve never not been a virgin.”_  
  
Her words along with his two-year fantasy of her naked and beneath him are now both seared into his brain and he knows he probably won’t ever be able to separate the two.  
  
He looks at Beth one last time, sometime in the night she had turned to face him, curling into a little ball. From beneath her tangled jumble of gold-colored hair, he can see her little frown and the crease of worry on her forehead. He goes out to hunt to clear himself of it.  
  
*-*  
  
He should’ve been paying better attention.  
  
After an hour of wandering aimlessly around the woods by the funeral home, Daryl trips on his own damn feet and nearly goes head first into a hidden 5-foot-ditch with wooden spikes jutting straight up at the bottom. He had nearly fallen face first, but his boot had caught on something, digging into soft dirt and dry sticks enough to stop him from falling.  
  
Cautiously, he uses his hands to scramble up, backwards over the bank of the ditch and back to the even ground.  
  
Rising to his shaky feet, he looked at the painstakingly sharpened wooden stakes directly below him and nearly laughed.  
  
God damn. He had almost been impaled by a hunter’s trap. This one wasn’t meant for no fox either. More like a bear. He could’ve died or bled to death, lured the biters right to him... and then to Beth. This thought wipes the grim smile from his face instantaneously.  
  
He would have left Beth all on her own all because he was a dumb ass with blue balls and a mean streak when he felt cornered. The realization makes him feel like dog shit.  
  
Beth doesn’t deserve to be alone. And though she didn’t deserve to be with an old red neck like him, he didn’t want to deny that someone good, someone beautiful, could now be his. And he wanted to be with her too, right or wrong.  
  
  
*-*  
  
She’s in the kitchen, preoccupied with something on the counter in front of her. The back of her yellow shirt has ridden up as she leans forward, revealing a few creamy inches of lower back. Daryl puzzles over how her clothes can be so dirty but her skin can still look so clean, lily white and fresh as spring water.  
  
He watches silently as Beth brings her hand up to her lips, pink tongue darting out to try something on the tip of one finger. Daryl notices she doesn’t just taste whatever it is, she makes a small satisfied moan, back arching like a bow and cute ass thrusting out. His blood roars south. He moves forward without thinking.  
  
The door clanging shut behind him makes her jump about a foot in the air. He’s proud to see her hand go to her belt knife before she turns to face him.  
  
“Oh,” she says taking him in with a hesitant but genuine smile. “You’re back.” Her hand drops from her belt.  
  
“Yep, jus’ me,” he says and she nods, still looking at him hopefully. Something in his chest lightens when she doesn’t appear to be angry with him, just happy.  
  
“What ya got there? More of that peanut butter?” he asks, gut clenching because of his stupid nerves. He doesn’t really care what she was eating but it’s seems a good question to break the tension.  
  
Beth blushes and licks her lips of whatever sweet thing she had been enjoying. Daryl looks down to her free hand and sees one slim finger is still, poised above a tub of Duncan Hines chocolate cake icing.  
  
Something must have crossed his eyes as he takes a step closer because she flattens herself against the counters behind her. “I found it this morning, after you left,” she says shyly, gesturing with a chocolate-coated finger to the tub.  
  
“I shouldn’t have started to eat it without you,” she says, her face now flaming red. She looks down at her boots as if guilty of some terrible crime.  
  
“Don’t worry about that,” he says gruffly, knowing he should be the one ashamed, because of what he said last night. She had opened up to him, and he treated her like garbage. He wants to say something now but he doesn’t know where to begin.  
  
Beth looks up at him again, but that doesn’t soothe her worried expression. He has no idea what he looks like to her. His face feels hot as he moves forward till he’s standing in front of her, close enough to touch.  
  
“Are you ok Daryl?” she asks, that little crease she gets sometimes deepening between her brows.  
  
“Yeah,” he says.  
  
She shifts nervously in front of him. He still doesn’t know to say so he takes her hand in his, watching as her eyes grow big. Hand holding feels good to him, easy and familiar territory that he can now handle because of her.  
  
“Your hand is warm,” Beth whispers, biting her lower lip.  
  
Their hands together is good, but it’s not all he wants to give her, if she still wants it.  
  
He still doesn’t know how to say that so he traces a line down her palm. His thumb caresses up her index finger, stroking one knuckle at a time before bringing the single finger slowly to his mouth.  
  
Without pausing, he swirls his tongue over the frosting on her finger. Sucks it clean and he’s not shy about it. The salty sweet combination of chocolate and her skin is the best thing he’s had in a long time.  
  
When her finger is clean, he dares a glance at her face again.  
  
Beth’s concern is long gone, replaced by something fierce that lights a fire down low in his belly.  
  
This time she moves closer, pressing her body against his first, then next her soft mouth-- ever so gently, as if he’s a skittish horse that she doesn’t want to frighten. Her tongue teases his and he tastes the chocolate icing again but under that, just Beth. Something sweet and light, like honeysuckle. It’s better than any drug Merle ever tried to tempt him with. Daryl’s confidence grows as she guides him into one sweet kiss after another, their lips meeting, crashing, burning.  
  
He wants to swallow her up, taste everything she can give him.  
  
God, was he an idiot last night.  
  
He takes a step forward again, so she’s pressed between the counter and his hips. Her hands are wandering through his filthy hair and he lifts her up so she’s on the countertop. His girl doesn’t miss a beat, she wraps her legs around his waist, sucking his lower lip into her mouth.  
  
His hand is between them, trying to undo her jeans. The button gives and he snakes a hand in under the zipper, feeling her warm skin and thin cotton panties.  
  
Beth breaks away from their kiss, big and serious eyes trained on him. “Bedroom?” she asks.   
  
He nods, swallowing. “Yeah.”  
  
She smiles and wraps her arms around his neck trustingly. He pulls her from the counter, eyes closing briefly when his hard on presses tight against her crotch. Fuck.  
  
Down the hall, up the stairs, and they start kissing again, her demanding mouth constantly seeking his. He’s ok with that, he even squeezes her ass before setting her gently down on the queen they had shared last night.  
  
For a second, he just looks, trying to regain control.  
  
Beth is perfect in the rosy afternoon light filtering through the windows, all blonde hair and pink cheeks. Her lips are even a perfect bow.  
  
Then she pulls off her sweater, never breaking eye contact with him, a sea-colored stare locked on his face. He pulls the sweater from her hands, then works on removing her shirt. It makes him less nervous, having something to do with his hands.  
  
Beth is so solemn in her bra that he wants to smile at her to break the tension but he doesn’t want to offend her none either. He lets his calloused hands slide up her pretty skin, feeling the hint of ribs and then the soft curves of her breasts. Something in him feels lighter when she leans into his touch, encouraging him to go further.  
  
Reaching behind the sharp blades of her shoulders, he unclasps her bra. She shakes herself free of the tattered cotton and peeps shyly up at him under long eyelashes before lowering her hands.  
  
“Beautiful,” he mumbles. And that word just isn’t enough, so he leans forward, letting his mouth trail over the swan like curve of her neck, down and down to her perky breasts. He laps at each nipple, feeling them get hard under the roughness of his tongue.  
  
She shudders and spreads her legs and he goes between them automatically, both of them falling back on the mattress. Once there, she’s wiggling up and against him, like she wants to crawl into his clothes and fuse herself into his body.  
  
Her bare breasts are pressing into him, and her hands are everywhere, gripping his hips then sliding under the back of his shirt. That brings him out of the moment a little, the thought of her touching scars that are older than she is.  
  
He pulls her hands down by the wrists. “Not my back, ok?” he mutters.  
  
“Sorry,” she whispers, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “I won’t do it again as long as you don’t stop.”  
  
Relief hits him, and tenderness towards this woman beneath him-- that she wouldn’t try to push him or demand more from him than he’s ready to give like so many others have. He pulls her head to his, fingers spanning the gold crown of her head. He kisses her this time, hot and needy.  
  
True to her word, Beth focuses on his pants, unbuttoning them and yanking them down as much as she can from beneath him.  
  
She doesn’t remark about his lack of underwear, just starts exploring his dick right away with a series of experimental and light little touches. He’s shocked and turned on at the same time. He should’ve realized Beth was done being timid with him.  
  
“Jesus,” he swears, “ya don’t waste time do ya?”  
  
Beth smiles against his mouth. “Nope, we don’t have time for that.”  
  
Her little hand grips his cock a little tighter. And he gasps, “no, I guess we don’t.”  
  
She starts to stroke him, up and down, fingers feather light as she gently touches his cock head, then slowly lets her palm slide down to the thick base of his hard on and balls.  
  
“I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says hoarsely.  
  
Beth pouts, leaning in for another kiss and he lets one hand grip her ponytail tightly.  
  
“We still need to take your pants off,” he says. “If we’re gonna do this.”  
  
Beth’s jaw sets. “Oh yeah, we’re dong this, Dixon,” she answers him with a no nonsense tone that he imagined she probably used with the kids at the prison.  
  
She makes quick work of removing her worn jeans too, wiggling out of them without even pulling the zipper down.  
  
Before he can even blink his eyes, she has his hand in her panties, right up against her slit.  
  
She giggles at the stunned expression on his face. “It’s just me, Daryl.”  
  
“Yeah, just you,” he echoes, realizing he’s more nervous than her and definitely not a virgin in any way. Yet his hand feels frozen between the v of her legs.  
  
She strokes his bicep as if to encourage him and slowly he thaws, his fingers twitching and then cautiously stroking soft and delicate skin. Her little moan sounds like music to him and his cock jumps when he feels how wet she is, the insides of her thighs are even slick.  
  
He bites his lip so hard he tastes blood but if she tastes it when she kisses him, she doesn’t mention. His fingers rub her in time with the brush of tongue and teeth.  
  
“Take ‘em off, Daryl,” she pleads, when she tears her lips from his.  
  
Mindlessly, he grabs the right side of her panties and tugs, face burning when he hears the seams rip. Of fucking course.  
  
“Sorry, sorry,” he groans.  
  
“Hush,” Beth croons soothingly, grabbing his hand and returning it directly to her clit, showing him how much she really doesn’t mind.  
  
But Daryl has better ideas now that she is bare before him and soon his head is dropping, spine curling so he can get closer to where she wants his touch.  
  
She makes a breathy sob when his tongue hits the spot, fingers clawing again into his scalp. Her hips thrust up in surprise and he forces them back down with his hands, anchoring her lower body to his tongue.  
  
He doesn’t hold back-- sucks on her clit like it is the sweetest candy he’s ever had, laps up her juices without reservation. If he can do anything right with Beth, it would be making her scream, making her cum in his mouth and for a few seconds, forget every nightmare that has ever happened to her.  
  
He looks up at her as he eats her out--her breasts heaving as she watches him, hazy big blue eyes on his. The eye contact between them seems to send her over the edge, and she grabs his hair tight so he can’t look away even if he wanted to, panting his name as her orgasm rushes through her.  
  
His scalp is aching and he doesn’t care, he’s about to cum himself but he doesn’t want to stop licking and tasting her. Then her moans, her whispers of his name grow quieter, her body seemingly becoming boneless beneath his.  
  
Even with his own dick throbbing between his legs, Daryl can feel another kind of satisfaction as Beth’s pleasure in him sinks fully in. It makes him feel so good in a way that’s totally new to him. And it’s enough. It’s not about tit for tat, grass or ass, like Merle had always preached. _I’ve never not had sex sober. Never not had sex with a woman I actually wanted to be with._ He licks his own wet lips dry then kisses Beth’s hip bone to show her what he can’t say.  
  
“Don’t stop,” Beth protests weakly as he lays down beside her. "I wanted you to..."  
  
“It’s ok, Beth,” he says, holding her hand again. “We got time.”  
  
She stares at him for a long second, searching his eyes. Then the corner of her mouth quirks up just a little, and she presses her naked body into his side.  
  
“What, are you afraid, Mr. Dixon? Of virgins?” she asks teasingly, lips against his ear.  
  
Daryl feels warmth spreading through him, Beth’s words making him smile as he turns to her.  
  
“Nah,” he says, realizing she’s probably just as nervous as him when she makes the jokes she does, and it’s cute and sweet at the same time. He doesn’t know how he missed it before.  
  
Right now he should say it, what she means to him and how she changed it all but he just squeezes her fingers instead. He knows his silence on it won’t last. And with the little knowing grin she gives him, he’s pretty sure she knows it too.  
  
It’s not like they have all the time in the world but what they do have could be fucking gold.  
  
So for now he just says, “You know I ain’t afraid of nothin’.” And Beth squeals as he rolls on top of her, her legs wrapping around his hips where they belong.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
